Julie Herckenrath

It was a cold, dreary day in Northern Virginia. But it was no ordinary day. In fact, it was quite extraordinary. For on this day, in the damp corner of an old abandoned barn, a very special cat was born. Her name was Kitty.

Kitty’s parents were strays who roamed from place to place seeking shelter and warmth. They never had a real home to call their own but they had settled into this barn which suited them nicely. They didn’t need much and were happy just as long as there were birds to chase and field mice to eat. Kitty was their only kitten and they adored her.

On sunny mornings, they would run through the fields jumping at butterflies and pouncing on crickets. They picked burrs out of each other’s fur and then cleaned one another with their rough little tongues. In the afternoon, they played hide and seek in the creaky wooden rafters and at night they cuddled up together in the soft sweet hay and purred themselves to sleep. They were as close as any little family could be. Kitty felt so safe and loved.